Without You
by thephantomphoenix
Summary: Racetrack and Harlequin both have a bit of trouble dealing with their break-up. Songfic. Racetrack/OC.


**No, you're eyes have not deceived you; this is yet another Newsies songfic (and many more are on their way). This one features one Mister Racetrack Higgins, who I love dearly. I mean, come on; who doesn't love a wise-cracking Italian? Anywho, on to the disclaimer!**

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, thephantomphoenix still doesn't own Newsies. She also does not own the song featured in this fic ("Without You"), as it is from RENT, which, sadly, she also does not own.**

**OoOoO**

Harlequin watched Racetrack walk away, heard the choking sob that escaped her own mouth, tasted the salty tears as they hit her lips. She could feel her heart breaking piece by piece. Two years. Two years they had been together, and this was what he did.  
>"I need space," he had said, taking a deep drag of his cigar. Harlequin was serious for once, and she had shivered as the snow hit her bare skin.<br>"But I love you," she had said quietly. Racetrack had sighed deeply.  
>"I know, and dat makes dis so much harder."<br>About two painful months later, Harlequin sat down at Kloppman's desk, a piece of paper spread out before her. She was going to start a letter. She didn't know when she would finish it, but she would write it.

**Without you, the ground thaws**

It was turning to spring now, and while every other newsie ran about in the warmth, Harlequin still felt cold. Why was it that the earth could warm, but she couldn't feel a thing?

**The rain falls**

She remembered their first kiss. It was like it had happened yesterday, and she missed it.  
>"Heya, bozo!" Harlequin said cheerfully as she caught up with Racetrack, who had just won a considerable amount of money at Sheepshead. Nothing could break his good mood. He grinned at her.<br>"Has anyone ever toldja dat you's a jerk, Har?" he asked as they strolled through the park towards Tibby's. She chuckled  
>"Only every day of my life, Higgins," she sang. The two laughed and continued their walk. Harlequin could feel the butterflies in her stomach even then, as she had possessed feelings for him since they had been little kids.<br>Racetrack, on the other hand, was thinking deeply. When was he going to make his move? He needed to man up. It had been a few years since he had realized he liked Harlequin, and he had done absolutely nothing about it. Yet.  
>"Shit!" he yelled as thunder boomed and the rain began to pour down in buckets. Harlequin laughed as he ran for cover. She began to dance in the rain, throwing her head back and laughing as she spun around. Racetrack saw his moment.<br>He walked back out into the rain and caught her at the waist, pressing his mouth to hers before she could protest. There was no hesitation when she kissed him back.

**The grass grows without you.**

**The seeds root, the flowers bloom**

Harlequin could see the lilies from her selling spot in Central Park, and it was painful to watch them bloom into full beauty. She remembered the first time he brought her flowers.  
>Harlequin was very sick, to the point where Kloppman had splurged for a doctor for her. She had been confined to the lodging house for days, and was restless, but weak. She had to be helped to the bathroom by poor little Boots and Snipeshooter, while the other boys took turns making sure she ate.<br>The doctor had said it was a problem that had affected Harlequin her entire life, but it had flared up now. He had mentioned what it was, though nobody really paid attention to what it was. All they heard was what he'd said next:  
>She could die.<br>Racetrack had heard this and immediately left, refusing to let the guys see him cry. It took many cigars and a drink before he could bear to think about it for real. He knew Harlequin and knew she wouldn't want him to be like this, especially if the end was near for her. Thus, he aspired to make her time more bearable by sucking it up and doing something great for her.  
>When Harlequin woke up from a long nap that evening, she found a bouquet of pink and orange lilies on a table beside her bed, a note beside them. It was from Racetrack, saying to meet him on the roof. She had grinned weakly and used Crutchy's crutch to support herself and hobble up there. The cripple didn't really notice, and if he did, he didn't really mind.<br>"Like it?" Racetrack asked as she made it onto the roof. Harlequin laughed gently, her heart swelling with love as she looked at the rooftop filled with lilies. She immediately closed the distance  
>between her and Racetrack.<br>"I love it," she whispered, kissing him.

**The children play**

Harlequin used to dream that she and Racetrack would get married and start a family one day. She felt a pang in her heart as a little boy ran past her and into the arms of his father, who resembled Racetrack too much for her liking.

**The stars gleam, the poets dream**

They had slept under the stars once. Harlequin had confided in Racetrack that she didn't know a single constellation, and he'd made it his mission to change that.  
>"Dat's Cassiopeia," he said, his mouth close to her ear as he pointed out the stars. "And dat one's Andromeda."<br>"Why do you know this?" she asked. He shrugged.  
>"I dunno."<br>"At least you haven't busted out the cheesy poetry yet," Harlequin teased. Racetrack laughed awkwardly, crushing the paper he held behind his back. Damn.

**The eagles fly without you.**

Harlequin had always wanted to fly. She felt it so much on these days when she thought about Racetrack a lot. If she could fly, she could escape the face that haunted her every thought, the laugh that followed her wherever she went. How she envied the eagles that sometimes soared through the park.

**The earth turns, the sun burns**

Harlequin had always been particularly pale, so perhaps spending an entire day at the docks in Brooklyn was not among her better ideas. She had disappeared into Spot's room to ransack his belongings for something to soothe the pain when a noise was made behind her. She turned to see Racetrack, burned to a crisp.  
>"You look like a lobster," she informed him. He snorted.<br>"Have ya looked in a mirror lately?" Racetrack retorted. "Ya look like a deformed tomato."  
>The two stared at each other for a minute before bursting into peals of laughter. Harlequin's heart ached at the memory of it.<p>

**But I die without you.**

There are dreams that people have, sometimes, that leave them terrified when they wake up, and follow hem for the rest of their lives. Sometimes they see their own death, or the death of friends, or great beasts that stalk you in the night.

Harlequin had such a dream.

This dream, however, did more than just follow her; it changed her. The second she sat up in bed, she was a new person. She looked around the lodging house, her eyes watering slightly, and immediately saw a certain curly-haired kid. She called him over.

"Mush! You want to go to Tibby's with me this afternoon?" The boy grinned.

"Sure thing, Har!"

Her dream, you ask? She dreamed of herself as an old woman, sitting on a park bench, tossing food at the birds. A man sat beside her, and despite the age, she could tell one thing: he wasn't Racetrack.

**Without you the breeze warms**

Harlequin felt the warm summer breeze blow across her face as she sat on the rooftop. Mush had said he'd meet her there in a few minutes before they left for their date. She originally hadn't planned on saying yes to the second outing, but she didn't see the harm in it. It was just one more date, after all.  
>What she didn't know was that Racetrack was watching her from the window, entranced. He missed her. He missed her a lot. She was beautiful, with the wind blowing her soft brown curls away from her face.<br>"Ya missed ya chance," Mush said from behind him. Racetrack didn't even look at him.  
>"Don't remind me."<p>

**The girl smiles**

Racetrack couldn't stand to be near the happy new couple. He had accidentally walked into Tibby's while they were there, and he watched as Mush made a smile creep onto Harlequin's face, which had seemed to be permanently set in a frown. Because of him.  
>There wasn't a day when he wished he could take it back. Harlequin was the girl he wanted to marry, and he screwed it up. God, Racetrack was an idiot.<p>

**The clouds move**

Everyone thought Harlequin was happy. Granted, she was considerably happier than she used to be, but it wasn't happy. She missed him.  
>"Dat one looks like a big ole sammich," Racetrack said, pointing to a cloud. Harlequin tilted her head to the side, not seeing it.<br>"Are you kidding me?" she asked. "That's clearly a tree."  
>"Dat's what you said 'bout da last seven ones!" Racetrack exclaimed. Harlequin merely shrugged.<br>"Well, it does."

**Without you the tides change**

Harlequin watched the water from the docks, briefly considering jumping in. She weighed her options before backing away. She had a date with Mush later, reminding her that she still had something worth living for.

**The boys run**

Every year, the Manhattan newsies held a race through the town, but Harlequin couldn't compete this year. She had twisted her ankle. Therefore, Jack had turned her into a prize; winner gets to kiss  
>Harlequin. It figures that she would be a trophy.<br>Racetrack knew he needed to win. He played dirty, tripping Blink, Mush, and Skittery in order to get to her first. He did, and they kissed. Neither one could ignore the fireworks, but neither one did a single thing about it.

**The oceans crash.**  
><strong>The crowds roar<strong>

Racetrack Higgins was very drunk, and the fact that he was at Medda's didn't help. He wanted to forget what he had done. So he cheered the loudest, sang the most, made the biggest fool of himself. He ended up vomiting in an alleyway, someone anonymous rubbing his back and wiping the sweat from his forehead.  
>Harlequin didn't know why she did it. She should hate him, but she couldn't, and he needed help. So, she helped him.<p>

**The days soar, the babies cry without you**

Harlequin left to stay in Queens. The entire population of the lodging house was in a terrible mood, and the youngest boy of all was distraught. His name was Teddy, and he was about six years old. He wailed and wailed.  
>"I want Harley," he had told Racetrack when he tried to console him. Racetrack had sighed and held the boy close.<br>"So do I," he muttered. "So do I."

**The moon glows**

It was by the light of the moon that Racetrack left to find Harlequin and bring her home. He had arrived at the Queens lodging house and pounded on the window. The leader, Flame, opened it with a sleepy glare.  
>"Whaddya want, Race?" he asked grumpily. Racetrack sighed.<br>"I need ta talk ta Harlequin." Flame disappeared and within minutes Harlequin appeared at the window, a somewhat irritated look on her face. Racetrack's breath still caught at the sight of her, pale skin glowing in the moonlight, curls in a disarray. Cinnamon freckles spread across her nose, and he wanted to kiss each and every one like he used to.  
>"Why are you here?" Harlequin asked bluntly. Racetrack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.<br>"We miss ya," he said. "I miss ya."  
>"You hurt me real bad, Race," Harlequin told him quietly. He nodded.<br>"I know." Silence fell between the two of them, and it took all Racetrack had not to kiss her. Finally, she heaved a sigh.  
>"I'll come home, but I can't forgive you yet."<p>

**The river flows, but I die without you**

Racetrack didn't fight back when the Delanceys pounded into him. Why bother? What did he care if his ugly mug got any uglier? He blacked out just after a female voice cried his name, cold hands touching his face.

**The world reverts, colors renew**

Harlequin had never thought brown was such a splendid color until she saw Racetrack's eyes open. He had been out for days after the Delanceys had gotten to him, and she had worried that they wouldn't  
>open. She leapt upon him and embraced him tightly.<br>"Don't scare me like that," she whispered against his shoulder. "I could  
>kill you right now."<br>"Good ta have ya back," Racetrack chuckled.

**But I know blue, only blue, lonely blue without you**

It seems that the two of them had shared similar thoughts during their  
>separation: loneliness, and nothing but.<p>

**Without you the hand gropes, the ear hears**

Harlequin woke from her dream with tears in her eyes. It hadn't been real; they were still separated. Mush had heard her cry out, and he was immediately at her side. She kissed him hard, trying to forget, her hands clutching his shirt tightly.

**The pulse beats**

Her pulse was a strange thing. She knew her heart was broken, but she still felt it beat. It was odd.

**Without you the eyes gaze**

Racetrack's eyes traced Harlequin's figure as she took Mush's hand. She didn't wear dresses often, but when she did, she was irresistible. He wished she had dressed up for him.

**The legs walk**

She had nice legs. That's one things Racetrack couldn't get out of his mind while he sold that day: the way her legs moved as she walked away with Mush.

**The lungs breathe**

Harlequin could feel her lungs collapsing as she sobbed, trying to hold herself together. She had just ended things with Mush only to see Racetrack talking to another girl, using the smile he used to save for her. It was her smile. Damn it, that was _her_ smile! How dare he give it so freely to someone?

Someone who wasn't her.

**The mind churns**

Both teenagers couldn't sleep that night; thoughts of each other raced through their heads.

**The heart yearns**

She missed him. He missed her. They were both miserable.

**The tears dry without you.**

"I don't need you," Harlequin said to him one day out of nowhere. Racetrack looked up from his pile of papers. Around them, the circulation desk bustled with activity. "All of my tears have been shed."  
>"Yeah, well, mine haven't," he told her. She looked away.<p>

**Life goes on**

They grew up. They got real jobs. They lived life.

**But I'm gone, 'cause I die without you**

The last time the pair met, the year was 1963. Harlequin, now known as Rebecca, sat on a park bench, having come back to Manhattan with her husband, John, to visit her grandchildren. John had wandered off to go visit an old friend of his, promising to return soon. Rebecca had nodded, smiling, and pulled out the remains of her sandwich, picking off pieces of bread to throw to the pigeons.

"Hey, lady, don't you know you aren't supposed to feed the pigeons?" Rebecca turned her head to see a young boy, maybe seven years old, staring at her with a stern expression, hands on his hips. He looked remarkably familiar, though she couldn't figure out why.

"Oh, I'm not?" she asked. The boy nodded.

"That's what my Papa told me; he was a newsboy, so he knew lots about the park."

"Oh, really?" Rebecca perked up; so he was descended from one of the Manhattan boys. "Who was your papa?"

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off. "Tony Higgins! Quit bothering that nice lady!"

Rebecca's jaw nearly dropped as the boy responded with, "Yes, Papa!" She turned her head slowly, in disbelief, to see an old man with deep brown eyes and a cigar. It couldn't be…could it?

"Race?" she asked quietly. The man blinked.

"I haven't been called that since I was a teenager," he marveled. "Do I know you?"

"Oh, no," Rebecca assured him, looking down; he didn't remember her. "I just…we had mutual acquaintances, is all."

"Well, nice to meet, or I suppose reunite with, someone who remembers my days as a crazy kid running around Manhattan," he chuckled. He turned to the boy. "Now let's get home, yeah? Grandma's making spaghetti tonight, and we wouldn't want to be late."

"Bye, Mrs. Bird Lady!" Rebecca chuckled as the child ran off, apparently really looking forward to the spaghetti. She heard John calling for her, and she allowed a polite nod to Racetrack. She stood and groaned slightly as her joints popped before hobbling off.

"Catch ya later, Har."

Rebecca died later that year in her sleep, after a tough battle with Alzheimer's. Her last known words?

"Tell Race I forgive him."

OoOoO

Yet another fic from the somewhat-distant past! I edited this one a bit more than the last, and I'm a lot happier with it now than I was. Please review! More stories of such a nature will be posted soon. Up next? A lovely little Mush-centric piece that is about as fluffy as it gets. Although, let's be realistic. Have I written anything yet that doesn't have a good deal of fluff?


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